Yoda says,

"Do or do not. There is no 'try'"

(I fully realize that the content of this post is far better suited for the self-indulgent rantings of someone under the legal drinking age)

For the last several months I have been in pursuit of higher education. Initially, I returned to school for the hell of it, as I have always enjoyed learning for it's own sake. I was also motivated by pride. I am a snob and highly embarrassed that I do not have a piece of paper validating my obviously superior intelligence. When I run into old classmates, I am ashamed that I do not hold some title. This is in stark contrast to the attitude I had in high school. I did not give a turd whether or not I had good grades or appeared to be smart. Why do I care so much now? And why am I starting to not care again?

I am a lazy, unmotivated person. I like doing things, but only when it feels good. It takes a lot for me to do things that are not absolutely necessary, unless I want to. This does not translate well. I am 27 years old and need to shit or get off the commode. Whether that means I continue my education, or find gainful employment, does not matter. In the last several years it has become easy for me to do very little. And if I really wanted to, I could continue doing very little. But I am at war with myself. My internal dialog has become an angry exchange between the hedonistic, epicurean Self and the other as-yet-to-be-defined Self.

At this moment I could be studying for my Sociology class, which I did for awhile earlier. There are many things I should be doing right now, but I choose to jerk-off on the computer at midnight instead. Sleep should be foremost, but lately I have not been able to knock off until after 2am.

I finished my book earlier this evening, which has given me some amount of freedom. I am trying to refrain from starting another until after my classes are completed. I say "try" too often. It is how I absolve myself of commitment. This is another character tumor that needs dire attention.

What is the point of all this self-pity? Making myself feel shitty isn't going to solve anything. I hope that I extract my head out of my ass long enough to stop being such a douche bag; before I have to live with more regrets for photographs I never took.